


Emma X Near

by ElayneCiara



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 13:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21180524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElayneCiara/pseuds/ElayneCiara
Summary: Emma gets sick. Near, being a child genius, notices.





	Emma X Near

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emeraldheart12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldheart12/gifts).

I sneezed. The room dimmed, and returned to it's dark ominous hue. One paper scattered, then another, soon there were a mountain of paperwork on the floor, mocking me for my misplaced mistake. 

"Bless you," said Near, turning towards me. 

He dipped forward and picked the papers up, handing them over then turning back around, a movement so smooth I swore he was a ghost. My midnight black ponytail swung around frivolously as I reorganized my sheets, sighing to myself. It was tiring enough having to do all of Near's loathsome paperwork regarding the Kira case in itself, having myself be as inelegant as I am adds a fine touch of misery. I sat down at the table opposite of Near, and buried myself in my work, eager to get it done as efficiently as possible. There was something charming about the way the atmosphere was, how you just felt like you could devote yourself for hours upon hours in here, or you could as easily sit in a chair and do nothing, feigning effort for days. There was always a deadline though, and no matter the cost, I always met it. I believe Near and I are similar on that front. He did whatever it took to get close to Kira, and I, albeit less important, did whatever it took to perform well. He doesn't talk to me as much as Rester, with the few exceptions being to modify the paperwork or run off a few thoughts he had regarding Kira. The former was troublesome but necessary, though the latter I enjoyed quite a bit. Those times I would often chime in my own perspective, initiating a delightful back and forth. Little things like that, moments that got my eyes off text was marvelous. Outside the able security that was the SPK headquarters it snowed hungrily, beckoning my attention away from my work. My vacation days were already reserved for me visiting my family in the holidays, and I doubt Near would want to indulge in something so superficial to his own accord. I watched as he swung his toy truck forward on it's tracks then stopped it, blowing a small raspberry with his lips.

It's comical, I thought, smiling to myself, If he plays with toys like this then surely he plays with snow.

"Near," I said.

His head shot up, his eyes meeting mine instantly. I continued, feeling the intensity of his stare burn into me. 

"Could I- I mean we, could we go out in the snow today?" I asked.

"No," He said.

Taken aback by his immediate answer, I snapped at him: "There's no reason not to." 

Near lowered his gaze to his toys, and with one hand twirled a strand of his curly white hair around his finger. 

"We have work to do-" 

"Which I can finish quickly, I'm almost done, in fact."

"... Even if you do finish, I won't allow you to go out in the snow," He said, with as much empathy as a rock, "You're sick, Emma."

"Near?" I cleared my throat. "I'm not."

Near pursed his lips, stumbling out: "You are." 

I felt at a loss for words, my cheeks lighting a fire I felt I couldn't extinguish. He was determined, I was surprised. But I pressed, knowing I could at least push for my best. It was snow, after all.

"What makes you think that?" I said, my hands going involuntarily numb. 

His round owlish eyes met mine, the mystical grey around the black pupils marvelously twinkling with knowledge. The corner of his lip turned into a half smirk, slyly coaxing a new belief into me without saying it.

"You've been sneezing quite a lot and you've grown tired. In a day, you'll get congested and cough a ton," He warned. "I suggest taking medication now before it gets any worse."

"Oh, but Near, it's such a gorgeous day outside! Can't you just set your assumptions aside and enjoy the snow?" I made an effort to mask my irritation.

"No," he said, matter-of-factly. "Get back to work."

I huffed and turned around, continuing my work and diving to get it done as fast as I could making it my mission to leave mistakes out of spite. Once I was finished in the evening, I asked for permission to go to my room to which he said yes, tripped up the stairs and bounced into my room, ripped open the window then jumped. I landed squarely on a mountain of snow, hissing at the unexpected current of electrical cold. I rose up, and dusted my clothes, snorting the snot out of my nose. 

"Hoo~," I breathed, wrapping my arms around myself and shaking. 

I started laughing, tossing snow around, making snow towers and throwing snow balls at them. It was a nice getaway from the confines of the dark bluish hue, a getaway from sitting in one spot and having my face be restrained to verbose nonsense all day. I made a manual snow storm, then another, my cheeks feeling rosy. I spent a good two hours playing in the snow until it grew tiresome, flinging water at nothing, doing nothing, and I fell to the ground. My last attempt at rebellious fun was a snow angel, but the heavy body that spent two hours playing refused to move an inch. 

"Jesus christ..." I muttered, my voice hoarse. 

I stubbornly held the cough that threatened it's way off my throat. I wasn't going to prove Near right. With that thought in mind, I dragged myself off the ground with a moan, making sure any evidence I had been playing in the snow was scarce. I headed into the building, past security, and when Near saw me, he called me over. 

"I recall saying you couldn't go out in the snow," He said, almost snarkily. 

I took a deep breath, gathered my energy, before stating my case: "I'm sorry it's just, I'm holed up here all the time and never get to have any fun. And, listen, I love my job, I love working with you, but would it kill you to loosen up once in a while? We're eighteen, now's the time to take bites of the fruits of our youth, leave the pruning to when we're sixty." 

Near remained as silent as a mouse, the only sound being the tack of when he stacks his dice one on top of the other. I stood there, unmoving, hovering for what seeming like an eternity, uncomfortably waiting for a response from him. 

"Near," Halle Lidner broke the deafening silence, "When do you want my confirmation due?" 

"Tuesday," He said.

I went up to my room, needing no response. When I woke up the next morning, I couldn't get up from bed. My face was on fire, my eyes felt like they were being drilled over and over again, and my head has been taken over by a parasite that only brings me destruction and bad songs stuck in my head. It was a phenomenon that only existed in my nightmares, a fever I couldn't treat. My heart ached everytime I thought of my exchange with Near and I felt as though it was in my best interest to find a power outlet and ram a fork into it. I kicked my feet in embarrassment and let out a few defeated coughs. I would laugh at myself had I not seemed so pathetic. I lied there for an hour, helpless, sinking into the bed, covered by my own thoughts and feelings. My emotions haunted me, running around my head until I dizzied myself. The cage tightened, my head rolled over and I collapsed under myself, tears releasing the shackles from the past, letting it roll down my cheeks. I seemed to sob my whole cold out of me, mucus and all, coughing the lights off my system. Who would be the unlucky one to knock, I wondered, as the three taps on my door rung in my head. 

"Miss Emma, Near sent me to get you. He says you didn't leave him a message stating your abscense," The rasp of Rester's voice muffled against the door. 

"Oh, I'm... fine! I just don't feel like working," I bit my lip at the uncouth explanation for my apparantly premeditated day off. 

"I'll send him the message," He said, then I heard footsteps fading out into nothing.

A few minutes of myself sobbing passed, when I looked towards the doorframe and there stood Near, giving me a look of extreme curiosity. I watched him, like a predator with prey, then hurriedly wiped my face, glowing red that he saw me in such a state. 

"My dog died," I said.

"Liar," He said.

Near walked to the bed then sat down next to me, hugging one knee and swinging the other foot over the floor.

"You were right," I said, sniffling.

"Yes," Near affirmed.

"But I stand by what I said," I said, my hands gripping my thighs underneath the covers. 

"I agree with you," He twirled his hair, a small intermission before continuing, "I've noticed a lot about you since you've started working here. You're a kindred spirit, you have a keen sense of humor, a useful sense of cluelessness and clumsiness that would only get you falling to china."

I giggled, seeing him smile at his own joke.

"As silly as it sounds, I wouldn't have discovered how youthful being eighteen could be if it weren't for you. So Emma, I agree with you. I want to take the bites out of the fruits of youth, or what it was you called it."

"No, you got it right," I smiled.

But I was immediately interrupted by a terrible cough, and I sunk back into my pillow sighing. 

"I don't want to see snow again for as long as I live," I groaned.

"Hopefully not, Who would I go with once you're better?"

I gasped and my smile reached up to the stars, "Really? You'll go with me?"

"Yes, I will. I will," Our eyes met.

It was strange, I hadn't noticed how close he was to me. We were one nose apart from being nose to nose, his shaggy white hair and soft lips made it hard for me to look at anything else. His eyes lured me in, telling me the same things, giving me the same promise. His white collared shirt had unbuttoned two buttons, exposing his bare chest. I wasn't sure where to look. I tore myself away from him, turning around and sighing.

"I'm tired, so I'm gonna sleep in," I said, my voice shaky from that unknown encounter.

"I'll bring you food and medicine in an hour," He said softly, almost a whisper. 

I gave a hum of acknowledgement, closing my droopy eyes and drifting off to sleep. In my dream, or dreamlike state, I heard a piano. A lovely little piano, playing arpeggios and wonderful notes, touching my heart and dragging me towards the music. It felt as if I was being enveloped into it, falling between dream and reality, I fell into the music until I fell into bed, wrapped by a warmth foreign to me. My eyes traveled to the arms around my stomach, then to the mop of white hair buried in the crook of my neck. 

Was he... Comforting me? My mind failed to wrap my head around it, the exact clarity of what was happening. I twisted my neck around, meeting his eyes, round and wide awake, but soft and mellow. A current of heat sprung on my cheeks, and I almost leaped forward. 

"N- Good morning, Near," I spoke softly.

The hands retracted, and we both got up awkwardly. My face was beet red, with good cause. I lowered my face to the ground.

"Thank you," I said.

The fresh morning dew blew off the leaves, giving the singing Canary birdwater to sustain itself. The sun shone brighter than yesterday and wasted no time to quickly melt off the snow. I opened up a can of tuna, it's brown repugnant fleshy appearance casting a double glance from me, then I winced, the smell of rotting fish slapping me in the face. 

"Near!" I called, "Your tuna is expired, I'm going out to buy another one!"

I promptly tossed the can into the trash bin, sticking my tongue out in disgust. Near poked his head in the kitchen, his round eyes posing a question, beckoning me.

"I'm coming with you," He stated factualy.

"What?" I asked, taken aback. "In public? With me?"

"Correct."

"Elaborate, Near," I said, trying my best to sound respectful.

Near gracefully slid into the kitchen, holding a toy robot in his arms and walking towards me with half parted lips. I looked towards the ground, and when I looked back up he was right in front of me as if he had a ghostly knack for gliding unnoticed. I took a step back, reminding myself that I was always a stalwart employee, nothing more and nothing less. 

"Emma," My name slid off his tongue with such smoothness I would've thought he rehearsed it a million times before. "I've been thinking it over, what you said. I want to explore new places outside the confines of the SPK in my free time. I recognize the danger, but my mentor, L, did the same thing when he was alive. Because of him I'm not afraid."

"Besides," Near looked away, a small tint of red on his cheeks. "I said I would go out into the snow with you."

I felt as if I was still dreaming. I rubbed my eyes once, embarrassing myself in front of him upon finding out I wasn't dreaming. "Yes, yes! You're right." I chirped.

Near and I made a kabob out of us in our coats and jackets, making sure we didn't freeze over in the cold. Near looked comical, bundled up like a balloon in something other than his signature white pajamas. When we finally got to the train station, I could feel Near's nerves radiating off of him. In an effort to calm his nerves, I wrapped my arm around his, and gave him a warm smile. Near looked down and frowned. I felt my heart break a little. The train station came to a halt at the park, and I stood up, letting go of his arm and going into the crowd. 

While waiting for Near and the crowd to clear, I waited behind a pole, letting an exasperated sigh get lost withing the air filled with sweat. The train left and the crowd cleared, but Near was nowhere to be seen.

"Near?" I called.

"Near!" Louder.

"Near!" I broke into a sprint, looking in every corner of the station, every nook, every cranny, finding dead rats and orphans. 

"For the love of the gods! NEAR!" I tried my best to stay calm, putting my hand against my forehead and looking around, trying to figure out where he might've gone. Or was still. He wasn't there when the doors opened. Near was still on the train.

"Jesus Christ!" My eyes widened. "Why didn't he get off?!"

I bolted towards the ticket clerk, catching my breath, before stumbling out: "Do you know where the train's next stop is?!"

He was silent for a moment, looking at me with wide eyes.

"The one that just left?"

"Yes!"

"Well, that one, it's going all the way to Ikebukuro." 

"Ugh!" I threw my hands up in the air and sunk to the ground, feeling my blood running cold. Every cell in my body told me this was my fault. If only I had been less lenient on letting him go with me. I knew someone as selcouth as he wouldn't be alright by himself. I buried my head in my hands, the familiar feeling of hopelessness welcoming me. Without him, what could I do?

I stood up, and tightened my ponytail, feeling a surge of energy flowing through. I wasn't going to give up so easily. 

"When does the next train to Ikebukuro arrive?" I quizzed the clerk.

"In an hour, it's the same train."

I felt a twinge of my hope shatter, but shook my head and picked myself up again. If I couldn't get to Ikebukuro by train, then I would have to go by other means of transportation. I fumbled around in my purse for my cell phone, got a gold of it, then proceeded to dial Mello's phone number with high hoped that I wouldn't have to deal with his churlish attitude.

It rung once.

Then twice.

"Hello?"

"It's me, Emma, I want to cash in that favor you owe me right now."

"Spit it out, then. What is it?" He practically jumped at me.

"I need you to drive me to Ikebukuro, please."

I heard a sigh from the other line, followed by a "Alright, where are you?"

"The Kanto train station. I really need you to hurry."

He hung up, and I put my phone back in my bag and waited, fearing for Near and for myself. The air was dry, barely carrying the sweat of its passengers and choking me sweetly. I hung my head, looked up, then sat down on the ground again. If luck was on my side, Mello would be here in a couple of minutes and I could reach Ikebukuro at the same time as the train would arrive, but as I waited there for nearly ten minutes I felt the color drain from my hopes. That favor, that foolish, repulsive favor I did for the hotheaded blonde who, as far as I could tell, didn't deserve it. I saved his life, and all he did was glare at me. On the night where Mello was invaded in the warehouse along with his lackeys, I shadowed Rester and Gevanni, trailing behind them like a beaten puppy while gunshots rung out left and right. Feeling disgruntled that Near was playing with a rubber ducky at headquarters while we were out risking our lives, I headed into another room to vent out my frustrations into nothing. That room happened to have Mello in it, and his eyes widened at me, then relaxed, then he furrowed his brow, as if he was expecting someone else. 

"Oh? You're with the SPK, aren't you?" His tone was hissed, toxicness oozing out of it like a barrel.

"Yes," I said, standing up straight. "I'm Emerald, but my friends call me Emma." 

Mello frowned. "Emerald, huh?"

He walked towards the computer behind him and grabbed a small button connected to a cord, leading to who knows where. He tossed it to me, and I just barely juggled it before it landed in my hands. 

"Why don't you do me a favor, Emma. When a guy named Soichiro Yagami comes through the door, rip the Death Note out of his hands. If he doesn't budge, press that button."

I blinked, my mouth half open, unsure of what to say.

"Sound easy enough?" Mello looked straight through me, piercing my skin. "Do this for me, and I'll owe you one."

"I... Okay." I was suddenly unsure of where I was, what I was supposed to be doing, and who I was working under. The authority in Mello's demeanor was unbearable. He swung open the door out the back and climbed off, dissapearing just like that. I was left with only the light from the computers illuminating the room, and the distant sound of gunshots. Then I heard the tapping of footsteps coming closer, then closer, until the door was broken down and I yelped in surprise. I quickly positioned my thumb to hover over the button, shakily staring at the old man with a mustache in front of me. He stared at me inquisitively, his eyes hardening with a longing for righteousness. He was determined. 

"Soichiro Yagami, right?" I asked.

"Are you... You're not Mello, are you? Where is he?" He asked, his eyes darting across the room.

"Give me the Death note," I demanded, "Or I'll press the button."

Soichiro opened the notebook and positioned his pen, looking back at me posing a warning. 

"Press it," He said. "Me and my men are prepared to die here, and if you press it I'll write your name down and you'll die anyway. Your real name, it's Emalyn Smythe."

My heart stopped. 

I looked towards the button, noticing the intricate wiring and machinery on it. I looked back at him, his crimson eyes glowing antipatically. I realized right then that I was actually going to die. This wasn't a joke, trick, or a story. Adrenaline coated my veins and I grabbed the gun in the box next to me and flung its aim towards him, shaking vigorously. He scribbled on the book and I felt tears well up in my eyes and I choked back a sob. 

"I wrote your first name, drop your weapon and don't make me write your last," He said calmly.

Suddenly one of the bodies on the floor turned and shot Soichiro multiple times, him doubling over onto the ground. I stood, frozen in place. Mello's lackeys tried to pry the Death Note off of him but it wouldn't budge. I looked around, in shock, then spotted a gas mask. I slipped it on, and my finger hovered over the button. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting out a cry and pressed it.

I didn't realize I was hyperventilating, remembering the past, until Mello had tapped me lightly, thankfully not on the side of my face which had the scarring. I bolted up, suddenly remembering why I was here, then followed him to his car. The car ride was silent, the air around me was tense, but loosened up once I relaxed my shoulders and let the past at the station. I looked towards Mello, the fervent blonde noticed me staring but said nothing, due to our lack of candidness ever since that night. I only saw him once after the incident, when he came to get his photo from the SPK. When he saw how scarred and bandaged I was, I could see he either regretted his actions or found amusement in me failing to do it properly. That upward look in his eyes said something, what that was is a mystery. We arrived at Ikebukuro station, and I quickly got out of the car, heading towards the station.

"Emma, I want to let you know, I'm-"

"I forgive you," I cut him off. I didn't look back.

There was a scarcity of a crowd in the station, the train having left a little bit ago presumably. I scanned the station, my eyes landing on white hair. I jumped towards him and wrapped my arms around him.

"Emma," he said, a sigh of relief following suit. "To tell you the truth, I'd much rather be at the SPK headquarters."

I pulled away and looked into his big round eyes, feeling myself getting lost in them. Yet, I felt at home. "Yeah. Let's go back," I said.

I felt the smile never leaving my face as we got back to headquarters. I didn't get the new can of tuna for Near, but I found Near. The hand that was enveloped in mine was his, our temperatures overlapping until they match. We walked shoulder to shoulder, side by side, not any more, or any less. We were a team. Near and I sat down on the couch and I put my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes, basking in this while I could. Then, Near sneezed. 

I giggled and said: "Bless you."

Near, hair as white as snow and heart as pure as winter, looked at me, smiled, then uttered a small "Thank you," in return.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this fic! This was for my good friend, who transports me into whole dimensions with her writing. Thought I'd pay tribute! (Also, I miss this ship I haven't seen any of it lately aaa)


End file.
